He didn't like the puzzled look. In fact, it made him worry, which was something completely unknown to him with women. He worried that she wouldn't like him, that his confession would do what it was supposed to and scare her off. It was completely illogical, but he couldn't quite grasp that in the moment. He just wanted to cling, to make sure she didn't flutter away like her creations. Despite his intentions in contacting her, he didn't want to-
He forced himself to stop thinking. To focus. "I'm just different around different people," he heard himself say. God, but that sounded stupid. It sounded like he needed a straitjacket, and it was that realization that got him moving.
He went over to her chair, and he crouched in front of it. He brought his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone, then over her lip, and he stretched up and kissed her softly, chastely, the simplest press of lips.